


Dare to Feel

by smoaknbabs



Series: Dare To Series [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Light Bondage, Role Reversal, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4807991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoaknbabs/pseuds/smoaknbabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Art curator Oliver Queen is desperate to save his beloved gallery, Verdant, and make it what it used to be.</p><p>The only way he knows to make that happen is to seek the help of new age artist, Felicity Smoak.</p><p>When the lines cross between business and pleasure, it opens up a whole new world of inspiration.</p><p>For the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dare to Feel

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion piece to [Dare to Touch](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4599042). It's not a sequel, so they can be read out of order, but it's fun to see both sides.
> 
> This is a belated birthday gift to my love, [latinasmoak](http://latinasmoak.tumblr.com). (I know I'm super late, but life got in the way.)  
> Also this is all her fault, the original post that spawned this is linked in the predecessor.

Shit. 

This was absolute shit.

How in the hell did he not see this coming?

Sure, he’d known the place wasn’t what it used to be, but how could it have gotten this bad?

And now he had five weeks to turn it all around or it would be lost forever.

Oliver rubbed his thumb along his middle and index fingers as he said his goodbyes to Walter.

He listened as his footsteps got farther and farther, until he knew he’d be out of earshot.

Oliver roared as his arms angrily swept everything off the bar.

Napkins fell to the floor, stirrers flew, making the smallest of sounds as each hit the ground.

His arms slumped against the countertop, his head throbbing and hot against the cold marble.

After everything he’d gone through, he’d never expected this to be the thing to break him.

This was his solace, his calm in the giant storm that his life had been.

He’d spent five fucking years on a deserted island, with unimaginable horrors, entirely too traumatic to mention. 

He’d spent half of that time dreaming of being back here, of being surrounded by creativity and spirit.

Not the death and destruction he’d been confronted with.

Five years he’d waited to come home to this, and after only a few months of being back, he had five weeks to save his dream.

A few years before the island, Oliver hadn’t been too much into art.

He would have much preferred the company of a gorgeous woman, rather than a gorgeous painting.

But his father had been absolutely in love with art. 

He didn’t have as much time to dedicate to it, being the head of a global corporation, but, he loved it enough to buy a gallery of his own. 

Robert Queen hand-selected all of the curators at Verdant.

And for a time, it was magnificent. Even Oliver couldn’t deny the beauty in some of the work.

So, he started to come to more exhibits. Exploring all the art world had to offer. He’d read books on the history, even taking a few courses here and there at some of the four colleges he’d attended. He  
even used his family’s jet to fly off to amazing museums all across the globe.

He’d fallen in love. 

It filled him with something his life had been missing, some sense of contentment.

He’d been gearing up to ask his father if he could work under one of his curators, to get to know the business.

That’s why he’d gone with his father on his trip.

And then the boat had gone down.

Oliver pried his head from the bar top and blinked heavily at the art that had covered the walls.

It was terrible, he knew that.

It was cookie cutter, pretentious, and completely unimaginative. 

Everything he’d hated about his life before.

He’d let his father down.

He’d fought to come back, to do what he intended to do.

Except now, it wasn’t just about him, it wasn’t even just about the art.

This was the one thing that he and his father agreed with.

It was the only thing he’d had left of him

When Oliver had gotten back, Walter had approached him.

He’d told him that Robert had spoken to him about getting him to become the curator of Verdant one day, to continue his legacy.

Oliver had accepted immediately.

But the gallery was failing. He’d had artist after artist give him absolutely nothing new, and his patrons weren’t happy.

It didn’t matter that Oliver had the Queen name to carry him through.

Verdant needed something special if it were going to survive.

And if Oliver was an expert at anything, it was survival.

//

“I said no, Tommy.” Oliver leveled his friend with a glare.

He knew how he felt about—

“Just hear me out, okay?” He smiled as he handed Oliver a glass of scotch.

Oliver sighed exasperatedly. “Why?”

“She’s your only option, man.”

“She is absolutely not my only option.” Oliver scoffed, swishing the amber fluid in his glass.

Tommy raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Really? Because I don’t see anyone else drawing as much attention in the art world as she does.”

Oliver shook his head. “She’s not even—that’s not art.” 

Even Oliver couldn’t convince himself. 

“It’s absolutely artful to me.” Tommy mumbled with a smirk on his face.

Oliver shot him an unamused look. “Really?”

“C’mon, Ollie. She’s gutsy as hell. You need patrons. She can draw them in. You know she can.”

“There has to be another way.” Oliver said, determined. 

Tommy tilted his head to the side, sizing his friend up. “I know you don’t actually think her work isn’t great, man. You know good art when you see it.”

Oliver looked up “It’s kind of hard to hate someone so remarkable.” He mused.

“Exactly. So what’s really going on here?”

“She’s—she’s so new age, so interesting. And I’m so—“ Oliver paused to think of the word.

“Stubborn, boring, off your game?” Tommy interrupted, teasingly.

Oliver glared at his friend. “Out of touch.” He finished.

Tommy nodded, knowing full well why this was so hard for him.

“She’s the answer, Oliver. She can save this place.” He spoke softly, reassuringly. 

Oliver looked down at his glass. He hadn’t actually taken a sip.

He’d stayed pretty far away from the stuff since he’s been back.

He’d stayed away from a lot of things.

Women included.

He wasn’t the same Oliver Queen they expected him to be, and he’d never be again.

He knew that she was exactly the artist he’d needed.

He also knew that he was absolutely terrified of talking to her.

Tommy was right, she sure as hell was gutsy.

Gutsy in a way Oliver had lost, gutsy in a way Oliver craved.

Because Felicity Smoak didn’t happen to just be an amazing artist.

She happened to be an erotic artist.

//

Oliver rolled his shoulders.

This was ridiculous.

Five years ago he’d have charmed his way into her apartment…and then into her pants.

It wouldn’t have been an issue.

Now?

He couldn’t even knock on the goddamn door.

His fingers twitched against each other as he rolled his shoulders, steadying himself.

Oliver closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again he had a calm, charming on his face. 

Albeit just a mask, it gave him enough of a fake confidence boost to lift his fist to knock—

But before his fist connected with the large wooden door, it had popped open.

Oliver was confronted with a tiny blonde. Her arms were crossed against her chest, her right eyebrow quirked. 

“How did you?” He motioned to the door, confused.

She smirked and pointed upwards.

Oliver followed the line of her finger upwards to find a small camera perched right above the door.

How the hell had he missed that?

“I’ve been watching you standing out here for the last 10 minutes. Figured I’d make it easier on you by just inviting you in myself.” She explained with an adorable little triumphant smile.

He couldn’t help but to mimic her expression, before accepting her invitation and walking past her into the studio. 

Oliver walked around the room carefully, his hands linked behind his back.

Tables all around were scattered with electronic parts, bits of wires tangled with stylus pens strewn about.

He glanced at her set up of computer monitors, the three large screens together in an arch.

He tilted his head and squinted before clearing his throat and realizing what in fact he was looking at.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Queen?” Oliver turned around to see the petite artist grinning at him.

“Call me Oliver, please. Mr. Queen was my father.” 

“Right but he’s dead.” Felicity’s eyes gaped. “I mean he drowned.” She shut her eyes in embarrassment. “But you didn’t. Which means you could come down to my studio and listen to me babble.” 

“You are not at all what I expected.” Oliver mused.

It was true. He’d prepared himself for her to be some kind of sexy seductress, some kind of unapproachable genius. 

He hadn’t expected her to be some amazing combination of the two. It was overwhelming. In a good way.

“I get that a lot actually.” She shrugged. 

Oliver cleared his throat. “Right well, Ms. Smoak—“

“Felicity.”

He nodded. “Fe-li-ci-ty.” He liked the way it rolled off his tongue. As much as he admired her work, he’d never actually said her name out loud before. 

“That’s me.” She popped her lips, rolling on balls of her feet. 

“So, I’m the curator at Verdant Art Gallery.” He began.

“Good for you.” Felicity smirked.

She walked around him and began to work on what he assumed he had interrupted her from doing earlier. 

“Actually, it could be good for the both of us.” Oliver edged.

Her head whipped up from her project. “How so?”

“How’d you like to be featured in your very own exhibit?” Feigning confidence, he held in a breath, bracing himself for her answer.

He needed her help. He couldn’t deny that.

He watched as she took the time to review the idea in her head. “Okay.”

Oliver looked at her skeptically. “Okay?”

She nodded. “I’ll be in your exhibit.”

He smiled, releasing the breath he’d been holding in. 

Felicity stood up and looked him up and down.

For someone so much smaller than him, she sure as hell intimidated him.

It terrified him. And turned him on. 

“Under one condition.” She bit her lip and looked him directly in the eye.

Oliver gulped. “Name it.”

“I’ll be in your exhibit.” Felicity stated. “Just as long as you model for me.”

//

“Excuse me?” He couldn’t have heard her correctly.

Felicity raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. “Model for me.” She repeated, more sternly this time.

He blinked slowly at her. So he’d heard her correctly, he just couldn’t wrap his head around it. 

The old Oliver probably would have stripped his clothes already. Would have jumped at the chance to get naked and model for a beautiful erotic artist. But this was the new Oliver. 

He hadn’t let anyone, save for the doctors who’d treated him when he first got back, see his unclothed body since he’d been back.

He’d endured a lot of pain those five years away. That pain resulted in a hell of a lot of scarring.

Some of which had left him with physical reminders.

He was covered in angry red marks, marred flesh, and tattoos that revealed more about his time on the island than anyone should know. 

He refused to show anyone, to let people know what he’s truly gone through.

Especially not this gorgeous, innocent, talented young artist.

She was pure. 

He could tell.

Not in the most obvious sense of the word. Clearly she was daring as hell, given the nature of her work.

No, Felicity Smoak was pure of heart. She oozed happiness and sunshine, and sure she clearly had some demons of her own, but she had made something amazing out of them.

Where in the hell was any of this even coming from? He’d barely met this woman.

But her art, he felt as if he’d had whole conversations with her just by looking at it.

He was no match for that. He was damaged and destroyed and definitely not worthy of being turned into art. 

“I’m sorry, I appreciate the offer, but I can’t do that. I would love for you to have a show at the gallery. But you don’t want me to be a part of it, trust me.”

Felicity looked past her glasses at him. A curious look on her face. “And why is that?”

Oliver took a deep breath, she made him feel something he hadn’t in a long time. Comfortable. “I’m not the guy I used to be, Felicity. A lot of people still expect me to be, and I won’t destroy that illusion for them.”

She mulled over what he’d said. Her brow crinkled in a way Oliver shouldn’t have found so attractive.

“I’d like to help you, Oliver, really. But, the only way I’m doing your show is if you model for me.” Felicity walked back to her work station and began to tinker with her device again.

Oliver huffed in annoyance. “Why is it so important that I model for you?”

Felicity paused what she was doing and looked back up at him. “I don’t know who you were before you went away, Oliver. I know that you were all over the tabloids, getting caught doing all kinds of stupid things. I’ve heard the rumors. I know some of them were true. But I don’t care about that. I care about the fact that you loved art, that whatever terrible things you’re trying to cover up about what happened to you, didn’t affect that. That’s the Oliver I want to get to know. That’s the Oliver I want to portray in my work.” She got up and walked directly over to him, staring him down. “You may not like  
who you are now, Oliver, but I want to show you just how impressive you’ve really become.”

Oliver’s mouth felt dry. Never in his life had anyone spoken to him like that before.

There was something so special about the way she could command him to listen. 

He liked it. 

Something deep inside him stirred, he wanted her to show him. He wanted her to try.

“Okay,” He heard himself whisper.

“Okay?” She repeated, her skin a bit flush from the excitement of her impassioned speech.

“I’ll do it. I’ll model for you.”

“Seriously?” She smiled, elated.

How was she even real? One minute she was aggressive and unwavering, the next she was bouncing and practically giddy. 

He couldn’t wait to figure her out.

He had to do this to save the gallery. That was his priority.

Whatever other…interests he might encounter would have to wait.

“When?” 

“When?” Felicity cocked her head to the side, like she hadn’t really thought about the logistics of this quite yet. “How about right now?”

“Right now? Here?” Oliver tried to stop the panic from rising up his chest.

“No time like the present.” Felicity reasoned.

He nodded thoughtfully. “Right. The exhibit will need some time to be put together.”

“Well then we better get started.” She said, raising her eyebrows to him in a challenge.

“I guess we should.”

“Right.” 

He lowered his eyes to hers, rising to her challenge. “If I do this, you’ll do the show?”

“Absolutely.” She nodded.

“Then you’ve got yourself a deal.”

//

Oliver stood in front of the full length mirror in the bathroom.

He reached behind him and pulled his t-shirt over his head.

Glancing at his reflection, he cringed.

Angry gashes marked him all over.

Deep cuts along his torso, burnt changed skin.

And his tattoos. 

The Chinese letters along his lower right torso, the Bratva captain symbol above his left peck, the dragon along his back.

He ran his fingers over them, feeling the slightly raised skin.

They were filled with stories; ones he wasn’t ready to tell. 

But this was for Verdant. 

He could let Felicity see his body, he could let her turn him into art.

He had to.

He had to try.

He dropped his pants and boxer briefs to the floor.

At least there was one part of his anatomy that hadn’t been altered. 

Oliver steeled himself.

If he was going to do this, he would have to jump into the colloquial deep end.

Felicity was leaning over her table, a red stylus perched between her lips, fiddling with a futuristic looking tool that Oliver had never seen before.

He smiled and cocked his head to the side as he stared at her.

Oliver cleared his throat loudly, gaining Felicity’s attention.

She whipped her head around, finding herself in direct contact with a very naked Oliver Queen.

Felicity shut her eyes quickly and brought a hand to her head. “Whaa-uh—what happened to the uhm robe I gave you?”

She was unbelievable. She worked in the world of eroticism and she was blushing at his naked form. 

“Well I figured this would be the best way to just uh—get it over with.” Oliver murmured, somewhat amused.

She opened her eyes, blinking slowly. “Oh, wow.” She blurted, eyes gaping. “I mean, I’d seen pictures of you before, and those were…impressive, but this—this is something else.” She babbled before  
biting her lower lip in an effort to stop talking.

Oliver shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, well—now you can see why I’ve tried my best to keep it out of the spotlight since I’ve been back.”

Felicity nodded mindlessly. “Sure, I can understand why you’d want to keep that—“ She motioned towards his midsection. “work of art, hidden.”

His eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You’re magnificent.” She let out a breathy sigh, eyes slightly glazed over.

“You’re not—you’re not disgusted by all of this?” Oliver questioned.

“Quite the opposite.” She smirked.

“I don’t—I assumed—“ He stuttered out.

Felicity stood up and let her hand fall to his chest. “What? That I’d be disgusted by your scars?” She looked up at him with trusting eyes.

He found himself drawn to them, to her. “Yes.” 

“They’re a part of you, Oliver. You’ve forged this…incredible body through what I can only assume was something absolutely horrible. You’re a survivor.”

Oliver opened his mouth to speak, to say anything—and he found himself rendered speechless. 

Felicity smiled softly, “Will you let me show you?”

He found himself nodding. He had a feeling he’d say yes to whatever she asked of him.

She grinned brightly. “Why don’t you go over there and get yourself comfortable.” Felicity gestured to a plush, lime green couch across the room.

Oliver walked over and seated himself uncomfortable on the couch, unsure of what he was supposed to be doing. 

To say he was out of practice would be an understatement. 

He watched as Felicity busied herself gathering some supplies from her work tables. She grabbed the device he saw her working on as well as a tablet, and a couple different stylus pens. 

She walked over and placed them on the coffee table in front of him.

“What uhm—what exactly should I be doing?” Oliver questioned.

Felicity smirked at him, her eyes trailing up and down the length of his body. 

“I’ll start you off easy.” She finally said, before fiddling with her supplies.

Oliver cocked his head to the side, eyes squinting. “What does that mean?”

“Just lie back for now.” She directed him, not looking up.

He released a shaky breath and twisted his body so that he was laying his head on one arm rest and his feet hung off the other. 

Felicity looked up at him and giggled to herself.

“What?” Oliver asked, feeling all to on display.

“It’s just—I’ve never had someone so big on my couch before.” Her eyes met Oliver’s and he watched at the realization of her words hit her.

Together they followed the length of his body to his impressive member. Though not even erect, he was huge. 

Felicity gulped, her cheeks flushing. 

For the first time since walking into her studio, Oliver felt the tables turn.

“Right well, let’s get started.” Felicity spoke, her voice slightly higher than before.

She picked up her tool and stood directly next to the couch, holding the device about a foot away from his face. 

Oliver nodded, equal parts terrified and curious.

“Just try to stay still.” She said before pressing a button on the side. 

It whirred to life, a bright blueish-purple light shining out in a beam from the bottom. Very carefully, Felicity held the device and moved it along the length of his body.

She had him turn on each of his sides and repeated the action.

Felicity smiled at his questioning gaze. “It’s just a special scanner I designed.” She stated.

“What makes it special?” Oliver inquired, trying carefully not to move as he spoke.

“It not only develops 3D images of the subject, but it has infrared thermal imaging software that measures the heat index of various parts of your body.” She explained.

“What do you use that for?” He asked as she had him turn on his stomach.

He smirked at he heard her breath hitch and felt her eyes on his ass.

“It can measure arousal, including pleasure points specific to the person. It’s helpful for me…in this line of work.” She mumbled as she finished her scanning. 

Oliver gulped, feeling himself react to her words. She hadn’t said anything that even strayed past clinical, but he found general rules of attraction didn’t apply to her. 

//

“You can flip back over now.” She said, putting down her scanner and picking up her tablet. 

She sat down on the coffee table and fiddled with a stylus, doing something that looked very purposeful on the tablet.

“So what now?” Oliver looked over at her, his fingers tapping against his side.

“Now it’s time for some detail work.” She said, never looking up him.

Detail work? Shit.

“Uhm—“ He shifted uncomfortably, trying and failing to hide his swelling cock.

Felicity finally looked up at him, biting her lip to hide her smile. She came to kneel beside him on the couch.

“May I?” She asked, motioning to his chest.

“What?” Oliver breathed. “Oh, sure.” 

The soft pads of her fingertips lightly brushed over his skin. She traced his skin, jumping over his scars and tattoos and dipping into the hard ridges of muscle.

He watched as her mouth fell open in fascination as she admired his body, only stopping to take a picture, or to draw on her tablet. 

It was like she was an anthropologist and he was a new scientific discovery that had existed for years. 

When her fingers traced the Chinese letters down the side of his body he gasped. She felt too good against him.

Then they trailed lower, down the hard ridges of his hips. She was way too close to where he was beginning to desperately need her.

He sucked in a harsh breath in an effort to gain control over his body’s involuntary reactions.

They locked eyes, the air sizzling with something palpable. 

Felicity licked her bottom lip and Oliver’s mouth went slack.

She forcibly broke away, and Oliver’s head fell back against the armrest shutting his eyes.

She continued her exploration, until she came across a very small tattoo directly above his groin.

A small arrow.

It mimicked the vee of his hips, pointing directly to his penis.

She ran her finger over it and giggled.

She honest to God giggled.

Oliver popped his eyes open and whipped his head up to what she could possibly be laughing at.

“Oh, god.” He groaned.

Her giggles turned into a full on laughing fit. “Really?” She gasped through laughs.

“I was young, and drunk, and stupid. My best friend has a matching one.” He feebly explained, embarrassment clear in his voice.

“Oh my god.” She laughed out. She blinked through the tears that had formed, attempting to regain her composure.

Oliver couldn’t help but to smile. “I can’t believe you’re fixating on that tattoo out of all of them.”

She looked up at him and flattened a few fingers over the arrow, rubbing more firmly. “I like this one.”

His breath stopped. He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn’t find words, and he definitely didn’t trust his voice at the moment.

Then her expression turned serious. “What about the other ones? I have a feeling your best friend doesn’t have those on his body, does he?”

Oliver gulped, turning white. Memories of how he’d gotten the other tattoos bombarded his mind. He was overwhelmed by imagery of his past that he tried so hard to keep hidden. 

He rubbed his fingers together rapidly at his side.

“Hey, hey—it’s okay. You’re okay here. You don’t have to tell me anything.” She said, squeezing his restless hand. 

“I just—I haven’t felt this vulnerable in a really long time. It’s not—it’s not as easy as it used to be for me.”

Felicity took a deep breath before fixing him with a serious expression. “Oliver, it’s okay to feel vulnerable. It makes us human.”

He turned away from her, unable to meet her eyes. “I haven’t felt human in a while.” He confessed.

Felicity swallowed thickly. She placed her hand on Oliver’s jaw and gently nudged him to look at her. “Can I help you?” she asked timidly.

“How?”

// 

Felicity stood and extended an arm to help Oliver off the couch.

She held his hand in both of hers as she looked up at him. “Will you trust me?”

Oliver nodded silently, utterly confused to what was going on.

Then she pulled on his hands, directing him to follow her.

He went willingly as she led them to a room adjacent to the bathroom. He soon realized it was a bedroom.

Her bedroom.

“On your back.” She directed, pointing to the bed.

He did as she asked.

“Felicity?” A silent question as to what the hell was going on hung in the air.

She smiled softly. “I’ll be right back, I just need to get a few things.” She assured him.

Oliver stared at the ceiling as he waited for her to return.

How the hell had he ended up here?

He’d come here, facing his fears, to save Verdant.

And now?

He was in an amazingly talented and sexy erotic artist’s bed.

Ollie would have been preening; Oliver was shaking.

He heard her before he saw her.

In her hands she had the scanner she’d used before, and what looked like an armful of silk scarves.

Four, to be exact.

She couldn’t possibly—no. 

He swallowed. Hard. His erection swelling painfully.

Felicity smiled slyly as she caught on to the expression on Oliver’s face.

She placed the scanner down next to him and leant down to his side.

Taking hold of his wrist, she glanced at him. Silently asking for permission.

He nodded mindlessly. 

She took his wrist and wrapped one of the silk scarves around it, before securing it to one of the bed posts above his head.

Then she repeated the action on the other side, all the while silent.

“Can you get out of those?” She asked, quietly.

Oliver pulled at the bonds roughly. She’d secured him tightly.

He could get out of them if he really wanted to, but she wouldn’t make it easy. 

He shook his head no. “Good knots.” 

She smiled proudly before hopping off the side of the bed and walking around to the foot.

“Girl Scouts.” She replied. 

Reaching for his ankle, she wrapped it in the scarf and secured it to a post at the end.

He chuckled softly. She was amazing.

After she’d finished securing all of his limbs to the bed she took a step back and admired her handiwork. 

Oliver looked up at her as she reached behind her and unzipped her dress. He watched as it pooled to the floor.

Following the line up her body he groaned as he took in her lacy polka dot panties and her lack of bra.

“Shit.” Oliver muttered as he licked his lips.

Felicity smiled salaciously and then turned to pick up her scanner. 

Her smiled grew wider as she heard Oliver moan at the view of her perfect backside. 

She fiddled with the device in her hands as she gazed down at him. “You can stop me at any time, okay?”

“Okay.”

She turned the scanner on, shining the light over the sheets next to him.

“Remember, Oliver, being vulnerable doesn’t mean being powerless.”

He felt his heart beat rapidly, his breath quickened. 

Felicity ran the tool along his body from head to toe quickly, once.

Then she started from his forehead and moved it extremely slowly.

He held his breath when she put it down next to him and got on the bed. 

Leaning over, she ran her lips along his jawline, tracing them up the shell of his ear.

She fixated herself on the soft indent right behind the lobe.

Oliver moaned lowly, the soft pressure of her lips on that spot wracking his body with pleasure. 

He’d never known he could be so responsive to such an innocent point on his body.

He almost whimpered as she pulled away, but he was cut off by her lips traveling right down the column of his throat. 

Oliver choked as she sucked his skin right at the base, his hips bucking up, seeking friction desperately. 

Felicity pulled away once more.

Grinning she hooked one of her legs over his chest.

She straddled his torso and sat herself firmly down on him, successfully keeping him still.

He groaned at the feel of the lace against his bare skin. 

Felicity let her hands explore Oliver’s chest more deliberately than before.

She didn’t linger on any particular spot, she just ran her fingers in the grooves of his muscles and sighed as they contracted beneath her touch.

Oliver felt like he could crawl out of his skin.

He couldn’t believe how turned on she’d made him in only a few short minutes.

She trailed her hands up and down his arms, and then reached behind his head and grasped at the hair at the base of his neck.

She leant forward and crashed her lips to his.

Oliver was stunned at first but as soon as he realized this was an act he could take part in he took hold of the kiss.

He teased at her lips with his tongue, begging for entrance.

She granted it to him with a moan that only grew louder when his tongue sought out hers.

Felicity ground her lips hips down on Oliver as he deepened the kiss, her center growing wetter and wetter against him. 

She pulled away with a gasp and he chased her, pulling frustratedly at his bonds.

Clearly affected, but not saying a word, she picked up the scanner and scooted further down his body, earning her a pained whimper.

She scanned along his torso and down his hips, faltering slightly at his fully erect cock, before continuing down the length of his legs.

Placing the tool back down beside her, she bent herself over him.

She used her nails to lightly scrape along his chest and then over a nipple.

He gasped. “Do that again.”

Felicity smirked. “What? This?” She coyly asked, scraping over his other nipple.

His hips bucked from under her.

She licked a path under his right pec, trailing it up and circling the nipple while her nails scraped over the left side. 

Oliver’s face contorted in pleasure, his skin flushing immediately.

So she did it again. And again.

She alternated between sucking and scraping and every once in awhile she’d bite down a little and having him on the verge of screaming.

Without giving him any respite, she moved further down his legs and quickly latched herself onto his left hip bone.

He cried out as she sucked at the sensitive skin there, her tongue swirling around and reminding him of how it swirled in his mouth, of how he wanted it to swirl over the tip of his weeping cock.

Felicity let her hands run along his hip bones, digging in as she sucked and laved, driving Oliver completely mad with need.

When she trailed her way to the base of his cock and gave a long, exploratory lick up to the top, the bed shook with his need to free himself.

“Felicity, please.” He begged.

“Please what, Oliver?” She sat up and raised her eyebrows in challenge, scraping her nails along the tops of his thighs. 

“Suck me.” He pleaded.

She tilted her head to the side, feigning confusion. “Suck you where? Here?” She asked, pointing to her hip bone. She punctuated her question by doing just that.

“My cock. Please. Please, suck my cock, I need you.” He looked at her, utter desperation on his face.

Felicity grinned as her palm gripped his shaft, eyes never leaving his.

She continued to maintain eye contact as she slowly took him into the warm confines of her mouth.

He tried to keep his eyes on her, he really did.

But her mouth felt too damn good, and he found his eyes slipping closed in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he stuttered out as she took him deeper, expertly using suction to the exact spots he needed.

She began to build up a rhythm, alternating between sucking the head, running her tongue along the slit, and taking him deep into her throat and moaning to provide some extra stimulation.

He pulled at his confines, desperate to run his hands through her silky blonde curls.

It wasn’t long before he began to felt the tingle at the base of his spine, his hips finding it harder and harder not to thrust up into her and chase his release.

Felicity abruptly pulled away with a pop, his cock falling obscenely from her lips.

He opened his mouth to protest, but the words got caught in his throat as she moved off of him and pulled off her panties.

He groaned loudly at the sight of her completely naked before him.

She climbed back on and straddled him right along his hips, his cock nestled right against the curve of her ass. 

“Holy shit.” He cried out as she slowly rubbed her wet sex against his lower abdomen.

She trailed her hands up the side of her body, before settling on her breasts. 

Felicity watched as Oliver’s expression turned from dangerous to downright feral. 

She moaned as she tweaked her nipples in her hands, grinding down harder on him.

He thrust up against her plush ass, feeling like he could come, just doing that.

He gasped as he watched her, completely transfixed by her hands.

“Fuck, come here.” Oliver broke, his voice wrecked.

Felicity slid further up and bent over to kiss him once more.

He could taste his salt on her lips; it only served to spur him on even more.

Oliver pulled away and trailed his lips along her jaw, down her neck.

He was determined to bring her pleasure with the only thing he could move, his mouth.

Felicity decided to grant him his wish and moved so that he could latch onto a pert nipple.

She keened as he bit down and then soothed the sting with his tongue.

He gave special attention to each one as Felicity ground herself harder and faster on him, gasping as she became slicker and slicker.

“Yes, God, Oliver!” She moaned, her voice getting higher and higher.

It was too much, Oliver was going to break.

He needed to be inside her.

“Felicity, fuck—I need you. I need you so bad.” He thrust up in the air, seeking her, seeking something.

She nodded enthusiastically.

Reaching over him, she pulled a condom from the bedside drawer.

His body shook with need as she rolled it over him and positioned herself right over him.

Felicity’s eyes rolled back as she rubbed the fat tip along her slit.

Just as Oliver was about to pull on his ties hard enough to break the bed frame, she slowly inched him inside.

His entire body went rigid as he felt everything explode behind his eyes.

“You feel so good, Oliver. So good.” Felicity panted above him.

“Felicity.” Oliver groaned painfully, his face red.

“Mmm?” She moaned, rolling herself against him, getting used to the feel of him.

“I need—I need you to move. God, please.” He begged.

She nodded and slid up him before thrusting back down.

“Yes!” She gasped.

Felicity quickly established a furious pace, riding him hard, and adding a twist of her hips on each thrust.

Oliver moved the best he could, thrusting upwards into her.

He needed to touch her, he needed to flip them around and make her scream, but something about being unable to do so made him hotter than he’d ever been before.

Oliver felt his orgasm approaching, but he needed to watch her fall apart first.

“Touch yourself, Felicity.” He ground out between thrusts.

“Oooh, oh shit.” Felicity cried, her hand falling down her stomach, rubbing hard little circles over her clit.

Her breath quickened, her pants getting high pitched.

“Yes, Oliver. That’s—oh that’s so good. I’m so close. Just like that—oh!” She panted, her voice the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

“Yes, Felicity! Come for me!” Oliver moaned, thrusting wildly up into her.

Felicity screamed as she came, clenching down hard on Oliver, slamming her hips against his.

He thrust up into her one, two, three more times before he was spilling into her.

They languidly moved against each other as they came down from their orgasms.

Felicity reached up and untied his wrists, massaging the bruised flesh.

He immediately reached out to grab her by the back of the neck and pull her down for a kiss.

She smiled against his lips.

He felt her hand travel down his stomach between them, resting right above his groin and rubbing.

He pulled away and looked down at her hand.

He chuckled out loud, kissing her once more and then letting his head fall back against the pillow.

She was tracing the arrow.

//

Oliver smiled as he tried to rid himself of one of the wealthy benefactors at Verdant.

He loved the art, but he’d always hated the mingling.

Unfortunately the latter allowed the former.

He searched the room for the only person he wanted to be spending some alone time with right now. 

He found her, smiling brightly as she talked animatedly about one of the pieces.

He turned back to the man who was currently droning on about the financial standings of the gallery. All he cared about was whether or not they were in the clear. He knew they were.

He whipped his head back around to look for her but she was gone.

With a frown, Oliver feigned interest once more in the conversation.

“Oliver, my boy!” Walter called him over, giving him the excuse he needed to get away.

“Thank you.” Oliver murmured, accepting the glass of scotch from the older gentleman.

“Don’t worry, I hate mingling too.” He offered.

Oliver chuckled.

“Well, I’m not sure how you managed to pull it off, but you did it, Oliver. Your father would be very proud.”

Oliver turned to him, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you, Walter. That means more to me than you know.”

Walter patted Oliver on the shoulder reassuringly.

“And I must say, Ms. Smoak has absolutely outdone herself. She’s such a promising artist.”

“Well, thank you.” Felicity said, appearing at Oliver’s side. “And please, call me Felicity.” She extended her hand to shake.

“Right, well Felicity, I must say, your work is exquisite. I’ve seen some of it before, but this—this is truly inspired.”

“I had a little help.” She offered, giggling. 

Oliver shifted at her side.

The entire gallery had been turned into an interactive art exhibit. 

Felicity’s work merged both her love of technology and love of fine art into one glorious showing of erotic splendor. 

The centerpiece being a humongous 3D holographic replica of his cock.

Of course, no one would know that it belonged to him.

The gallery was filled with the imagery of their time spent together. 

After Felicity had freed him, he used her scanner on her. He’d been the only one to ever find all twelve of her pleasure points.

The inspiration just kept coming from there.

The only piece of identification to tie the imagery to Oliver was the repetition of small arrows, directing the patrons how to interact with the pieces.

Oliver smiled as he heard Felicity babble about her work to Walter, and as he left, she slid her hand slightly along the waistband of his pants.

Lingering right above his arrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come chat with me on tumblr @ [smoaknbabs](http://smoaknbabs.tumblr.com/).
> 
>  
> 
> Please don't forget to let me know what you guys think!


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